Author note: Ah, I wasn't going to update today, but what the hell. Might as well go ahead since I haven't got anything to do. I'm not sure if I'll post tomorrow, but I'll try. I'm not in the best of moods because somebody ripped my heart out and forgot to give it back…what a jackass, huh?
I kicked rapidly as someone slung me over their shoulder and hauled me down the fire escape. I bit hard onto the bandana around my mouth, and tried screaming, but it all sounded muffled.
I didn't know where I was being taken, but it brought a sudden fear into my heart. Okay, note to self: do not enter Spot's room alone…he has strange men in there.
Audience P.O.V
I met up with Jack at the Brooklyn Bridge and discussed my threat note to him.
"So we's need ta go at dusk? Sundown?" Jack asked his Brooklyn buddy. Spot nodded as he stared out into the water, oblivious to the fact that his girl had been kidnapped not too long ago.
Sage was on his mind non-stop; her image haunting his head. He had dreams of her; bad dreams. He would be running, fog surrounding him completely, and he just ran. He didn't know what for, but his heart would beat rapidly against his chest, threatening to pop out.
The streets he ran through – Brooklyn – held nobody. There were no turns or alleyways, and every building was pressed together. There was no way out; no shortcut. Why did he need a shortcut? Something settled in the fog before him, and a deadly abandoned warehouse stood before him – the warehouse that he had first met Sage.
Then he'd wake up. He never had the chance to open the door, or get any closer…he would just wake up. Even in reality his heart would still be threatening to pop out, and he still felt – what was that word – oh yeah, scared.
Spot sighed as he leaned over the bridge and looked down at the glistening water.
"What's on yer mind, Spot?" Jack asked suddenly, a cigarette pressed between his lips.
"Nothin, Jack-boy," Spot responded, smiling at the mere thought of Sage. How could the Brooklyn leader be crazy over one girl? One girl that was completely different than him, and one girl who drove him completely nuts.
But then again, she was the same girl that made his heart race when he saw her, and she was the one girl he would die for. Anything she wanted, Spot would give her, just because he loved her.
He would laugh to himself sometimes; Spot Conlon in love…it was never heard of. He laughed even harder: Spot Conlon in love with a gentle girl…now that was a shocker. Everyone expected Brooklyn to go after a rough girl, one who was exactly like him, and one who fought with him non-stop. But to everybody's amazement, Spot fell for the "sweet" girl.
Or so they thought. Sage wasn't just a "sweet" girl; no, she was different. She also had an attitude and a lot of stubbornness…and she could kick ass when she's pissed.
Brandon Allen Conlon had finally found love.
Near dusk, Spot and Jack departed for Manhattan, where the Harlem leader waited at the warehouse.
Spot felt a bit nervous about this. What did Harlem want this time? Spot was still fuming with rage about the fire, and he was still planning on revenge, but for now that had to wait.
As they approached the warehouse, Spot felt his heart leap into his throat. He didn't know why, but something beyond them doors worried him.
Jack turned the knob to the warehouse, and aloud the Brooklyn leader to go in first. Spot looked around at the dusty space. Empty…everything was empty…just like his head.
Was he stupid for coming here or what? Them damn Harlem idiots must've stood them up.
"I'm glad you could make it," came a voice. Then again, Spot could be wrong. He and Jack watched as Lance emerged from the shadows, an evil glint in his eyes.
"What is dis all 'bout, Lance?" Jack demanded. "Youse already ruined da Lodgin Houses, what more do ya want ta do?" Lance chuckled and walked closer to Jack and Spot. The room grew darker as the sun switched its place with the moon, and Spot could only see Lance provided by the little light the moon supported.
Spot's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and he could now see well. Every inch of Lance screamed murderer, and Spot wanted nothing more than to lunge at him and impale him. He pushed that feeling away and put on his leader disguise, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring intently at Lance, his lips formed in a straight emotionless line.
"Now, let's get to business," Lance said. He rubbed his hands together briefly and looked as if he were thinking.
"Yer wastin our time, Harlem," Spot said emotionlessly. Lance formed a small, mischief smile upon his face and moved his bangs out of his eyes.
"A'right, Brooklyn. Rivals need ta somehow come to a conclusion on whose bettah, right?" Lance questioned. Spot shrugged,
"I guess."
"Well, I declare war," Lance said. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest and waited for a reply. Finally, Jack spoke up:
"We ain't fightin, Lance." Jack spoke with pure hatred in his voice, remembering what happened to his good friend Crutchy, and his girl.
"Ah, but youse have no udder option-"
"We speak for our damn selves!" Spot cut him off. "There ain't gonna be a war; I ain't puttin my boys through dat!" Lance laughed,
"Youse is a good leadah, Conlon, but youse hafta join da war. I mean, we's need ta settle dis once and for all. Here are da rules, we win we's get control ova yer lands. And if youse win, den youse get the victory of revenge, and we'll leave ya alone." Spot narrowed his eyes,
"Forget it. There ain't nothin youse could say or do ta change my mind. Youse can attack us all youse want, but youse'll jus' get yer asses kicked!" Jack nodded,
"Yeah. Youse Harlem freaks ain't nuttin but losers. Youse always gotta start somethin!" Lance chuckled and nodded.
"Youse got a lot ta say, Kelly, and I see if I let youse talk den we'll be here all night." Lance paced back and forth calmly, making Spot's anger grow increasingly.
"Youse got shit for brains, Lance!" Spot said. "We ain't gettin involved in no damn war, and dat's dat!"
"Yeah, and Spot knows what he's talkin 'bout!" Jack said. Lance turned his back to the boys, and even with his back turned, Spot could tell that he was grinning.
"Youse don't have any udder choice, Conlon," his voice echoed throughout the hollow room. He then turned to face them, and he looked like a psychotic man who had escaped the Asylum.
"What're youse talkin 'bout, Lance?" Spot wanted to know.
"Yer choice, Conlon. Youse join da war or not. And I have a feelin youse is gonna wanna say yes." Spot narrowed his eyes,
"There ain't no way on this damn planet dat youse can change my mind!" Spot said.
"I beg ta differ," Lance said dangerously. He made a gesture with his hand, and out of the shadows walked a few of his guys, dragging a girl along.
Spot's eyes grew wide and his anger had now boiled over. He gripped his cane so tight he felt his hand go numb.
Sage was bleeding in various places, and had a look of fear plastered to her face. She looked tired and broken. Her eyes traveled over to Spot, and she immediately made a move to run towards him, but the boys grabbed hold of her arms and yanked her forcefully back.
Normal P.O.V
I let out a small cry of pain as the boy's yanked me back, and gripped my arms tightly. I had a cut along my eyebrow, and a small cut at the side of my lip. I could feel other cuts and bruises along my body, but I ignored it.
Spot's breathing increased as his eyes changed from anger to even more anger.
"Let 'er go youse good for nothin piece of shit!" Spot screamed.
"I don't think so," Lance said calmly. "I told ya youse is gonna wanna join. 'Cause if youse don't," Lance turned towards his boys, and Spot watched as one took out a sharp knife and pressed it up under my neck. The cold metal made me shudder slightly, and I tried to swallow down my fear.
I felt the boy grip my wrists and pin my arms behind my back, making me cry out in pain again.
"Damn it, Lance! Dis is between youse and me! Leave 'er out of dis!" Spot yelled.
"Ah, I have found da weakness of Spot Conlon." Lance turned to me and tilted his head, "She's a feisty little thing, caused me boys a bit of trouble. Hard ta handle, she is, so we had ta beat some sense into 'er." Spot growled and stepped closer to Lance, but Jack stopped him by placing his hand upon his shoulder.
"Don't," he told Spot. "Dey can still hoit 'er." Spot's eyes traveled back over to me, and he saw the fear in my eyes. I wasn't afraid of dying at the hands of these Harlem freaks, I was afraid of Lance hurting Spot and Jack.
"So, what's it gonna be Spot?" Lance asked.
"Youse can't use 'er against me, Lance. Dat ain't what a true leader does! Let 'er go and we can settle dis like real men," Spot said. Lance shook his head,
"Boys," he said. Everybody's eyes turned to us as the boy with the knife ran the blade across my cheek, and I whimpered in pain.
"Stop it!" Spot shouted. "Damn it, Lance, if youse want yer goddamn war, den youse got it!" Spot slammed the bottom of his cane on the floor and the sound echoed through the quiet warehouse.
"I knew you'd see it my way," Lance said. Spot's chest moved up and down in a fast pace, his face red with anger and hatred.
"Now let 'er go," he told Lance.
"Nah," Lance said. "I think me boys are quite fond of 'er." The boys around me chuckled and nodded, giving me seductive looks. I struggled to get out of the boy's grasp, but it only made my arms hurt worse.
"I won't tell youse again," Spot said in a low and deadly voice. "Let 'er go!"
"A'right; we'll let 'er go. But she still ain't safe, even if she is around youse." Lance nodded to the small group of boys around me, and the boy's hold on my wrist loosened, but he didn't let go.
"C'mon, Lance, can't we's jus' play with 'er for awhile," the boy said. I yanked my arms away from him, and sent my fist to his jaw, and his head flew back. I then turned around and ran past Lance and into Spot's arms.
He held onto me tightly as I buried my head into his chest, but I wouldn't let any of my tears fall; not yet. Spot kept his arms around me and looked over at Lance.
"Youse'll regret dis," he said. "I'll kill ya…all of ya!"
"I'll send a messenger when I want the war ta start, Conlon. For now, as a warning, I'd keep my eyes on dat goil of yer's if I were youse." And with that said Lance turned away from Spot and casually walked off, his boy's behind him.
Spot grunted and tightened his hold on me, kissing my head several times.
I was tired as hell, and kept close to Spot as we walked back to Brooklyn. Spot never let go of me, and rubbed his fingers of the dripping blood on my face from my new cut. I don't think it'll turn into a scar since it isn't that deep.
Once we returned to the Lodging House, Spot tried to clean my wounds, but I refused, telling him I was getting a bath. Spot hesitantly nodded and I left for the washroom.
I put water into the tub and stripped of my clothing. There were bruises and cuts covering my body, and each one stung as I stepped into the water. I bit my lip and relaxed, still afraid about the events that had happened earlier.
I felt my stomach churn at the thought of Spot in a war. He should've said no! I'd rather me die than him! I finally let my tears slip, and briefly dunked my head underneath the water and resurfaced.
After I had washed up and cleaned my rooms, I quietly walked up to Spot's room. He sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over, his face hidden beneath his hands.
"Spot," I said quietly. He slowly looked up, and my eyes grew wide. Through the months that I had known Spot, I knew him to hide his emotions better than anybody, and Spot would not could not, should not cry. But for the first time ever, there were tears streaking down his cheeks. I blinked a few times and closed the door silently.
Spot rose from the bed and walked over to me. I put his arms protectively around me and pulled me into a hug.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry." My dream came back to mind, and I remembered that Spot had said those same words about our daughter that we didn't have…yet.
"For what?" I asked, wiping away his stray tears.
"For puttin youse in so much danger. I would die if those boys hoit ya…I would jus'…die." I licked at the dryness of my lips and smiled. I leaned up and put my lips to his gently, and then pulled away.
"Everything will be alright," I assured him.
"When Spot Conlon cries, Sage…den nothin is alright…"
Next Chapter: Spot won't let Sage leave his side. He can't afford to lose her.
The upcoming war has Sage worried for Spot's life…
Sage's eighteenth birthday is coming up, and she still hasn't told Spot or the other's…except Scout.
Author note: Blah, I am so tired….I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I can't promise you that I'll post tomorrow. I'll do my best, because knowing me I'll be back to normal soon. LONG LIVE SAGE BECAUSE SPOT IS GOING TO WAR!